


Ride A Whie Horse

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rowena and Arthur go riding........</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride A Whie Horse

“Do you want to go riding this afternoon,” Arthur asks me impassively during our midday meal, licking his fingers that are greasy from Lenni’s succulent roast hare. The question catches the breath in my throat, melts my knees, makes me nail my bottom to the bench so that I don’t fly from the wood and start cleaning the grease from those beautiful fingers with my own rapacious tongue…….

You see, such an enquiry can mean one of two things coming from Arthur. Sometimes riding is simply riding – that is on horseback. Galloping, cantering, trotting and so on, above the village, across the valley, with the wind whistling, racing through the woods, laughing as you weave through the trees and jump the furrows. And that is wonderful in itself, because I am as at home astride a horse as I am standing on the earth. After all, Yorath is a renowned horse breeder and I have been riding since I could sit up unaided.

At other times though, riding can also mean other things………things that result in returning home with leaves in your hair or red rims around your wrists or sometimes both………. Anyway, activities which are delicious and intoxicating and sweet and scrumptious and……. I must stop or I will swoon, here at the table, right in front of everyone……..

Truth be told, there has been very little of either sort of riding recently. Six or so weeks ago Kaitlin was born and for several months before, I avoided horseback, erring on the side of caution. And since her arrival – well, I have been limping and sobbing around the longhouse as if I was some sort of ancient crone who had misplaced her walking staff. In fact, this is the first week that I have not felt as if my twat is burning and I am sitting on a crown of thorns. Suddenly too, certain other hungers have been unbridled – hence the urge to suck slithery body parts, whether visible or not……….

So, now, I nod decorously, remembering that I am a respectable wife and mother (Yes, and Boudicca had a cock), mindful of the smattering of village warriors sharing the savoury hare, mindful of how Arthur has never liked public displays of affection. Kai is telling Llud about Mark spending his marriage feast with his face between Eithna’s surprisingly ample breasts at their wedding last month and it is a very funny story – but I am becoming too flushed and light-headed to concentrate on anything. Even Kai at his comic best. Is riding going to be simply riding or riding with reinforcements so to speak………?

As soon as I politely can I flee the table, promise Lenni that I will do all the clearing away myself tonight, suckle Kaitlin and sigh with relief when she goes quickly to sleep - and then, for the first time in months, climb into my old breeches. I have a waist again! Thinner perhaps and other bits of me will never ever be the same shape, but all in all, not too bad considering.

Lenni smiles when she sees me. If not for her, I wouldn’t even be here…… “I’ll watch Kaitlin – Llud has taken the boys with him and Kai. Have a good time – and come back with more colour in your cheeks.” She raises her eyebrows, laughing and I’m horrified to feel myself blushing. True, we do share confidences that would undoubtedly make Arthur and Kai redden if they knew, yet somehow today I feel like the rawest girl starting over………

Outside I look around for Arthur, his white horse Bran and my old mare Rhiannon. She’s a lovely animal, biddable and faithful, almost ready to be retired to pasture. I see Arthur, (still your thudding heart, ridiculous woman), the white horse, and…….in his other hand he holds the reins to a horse I have never seen before. The most beautiful mare I have ever seen before. Copper-coloured, long slender legs, liquid eyes, silky mane. He smiles. “Her name is Myfanawy but you can change it if you like.”

Change what? The horse is perfect, he is perfect, watching village eyes be dammed for once………. His lips taste of honey and sunshine. Arthur laughs. “Yes well……. I know how much you still love Rhiannon but it must be time for her to enjoy some honourable retirement. Yorath thought you would like this one. She’s feisty and ready for a good gallop. We can ride as far as the estuary and back. It’s a fine day.”

To be out in the cool clear air, bolting across the ridge and beyond, to the edge of the restless white-streaked ocean, pale blue and turquoise and royal blue all at once…….it is exhilarating beyond words. Arthur reaches the rim of the cliff just before me and sits waiting. When I rein in Myfanawy, breathless with delight, he leans across and kisses me playfully on the mouth. “I’m glad you’re pleased with your gift. She moves well. We can go home through the great oak forest. Try her out on the rougher ground.” He wheels the white horse and races away toward the russet trees.

Desire and disappointment parch me in equal measure. So today, riding is to be simply riding……. Silly greedy woman that I am. I should just be grateful for what I have been given. If not today, then one day soon…… I am acting like the giddiest girl……. But still, when you have a husband who looks like Arthur, giddiness and anticipation are surely excusable sometimes……….

Trying not to sigh, I follow, glad of Myfanawy’s nimble hooves and keen natural intuition. Winding through the rustling undergrowth, we come upon Arthur halted in a small clearing, the white horse standing absolutely still. I stop beside him, suddenly worried. “Is something wrong with Bran?” Arthur shakes his shiny dark head, smiling. “No, although you could always come here and see.” His blue eyes look steadily into mine, gleaming meaningfully .

For a moment I am confused………what can he possibly want? We don’t both need to…….and then his intent finally becomes clear and every fragment of me floods with exquisite searing warmth…….

In one sweeping movement, he lifts me from Myfanawy so that I am sitting on Bran’s back facing him. Settled among the fresh fluffy sheepskins spread across Bran as saddlecloths. Arthur grins at me. “Hello there, I’ve missed you…..” and those are the last words I can coherently remember for quite a while……

He slides his fragrant tongue into the fervent hollow of my mouth, pooling fiery sweetness in every frenzied crevice of my body. Slipping a silken hand inside my tunic, across my throbbing milk-swollen breasts, goading the taut nipples. Nibbling his way to my ear, gently sucking as I start to moan, sliding my hands around his neck and holding on tight lest I fall sideways in limpid craving……

In turn, Arthur begins to groan deep in his throat as my lips roam a scorching moist trail along his neck, under his satin ebony hair, as my thighs press against his, feeling the rigid flesh of that magnificent brimming cock butting against my groin. Now, how exactly is this going to……..?

With a bellow, Arthur’s ripe mouth latches on to my brazenly hardened nipple, sucking it deeply inside, his teeth tenderly grazing. Instinctively I pull him closer, shards of predatory need and heat shimmering through my veins, warm moisture gushing from my twat………

Arthur hears me whimper, feels me shudder, lifts me forward from beneath my arse, settling me into his lap, spreading my legs wide across his…….. I shriek, arching against him when his hand snakes inside my breeches, fondling the inside of my thighs, raking through my brown bush, stroking my pouting nether lips, smiling as his caressing fingers are drenched by hot dewy honey…..

Crushing his mouth against mine, he glides one questing finger inside me – and I free his glistening swollen manhood, the shaft burgeoning violet velvet. There is no time now – it is nothing but melting want, wet fire, enraptured homecoming…… Arthur raises me until the head of his jutting cock kisses the fringe of my gaping twat – then I am simply filled by thrusting pulsating prick, flooded by pulsating flame, swept by overwhelming love………

I never manage to ride home on Myfanawy’s back. Llud looks concerned when I arrive back perched in front of Arthur like a child. “Is the new mare troublesome?” Calmly, Arthur shakes his head, lifting me down to the ground where I stand on knees seemingly fashioned from sodden wool. “No, she’s frisky but very audacious. She seemed to enjoy herself immensely Llud.” And he dismounts in his usual graceful manner while I flee into the longhouse away from Kai’s too-knowing gleeful grin……

While Lenni finishes preparing the evening meal, I bathe her two lively boys in front of the fire, musing all the while about how fate and luck and the gods measure out life and choices and compromises, about what we might change in our lives if given other chances, about accepting and letting go and making peace with what you can never alter………..

Well, there was a girl I once knew who had nothing to lose – a girl whose last day of existence had been the day before a certain tall dark-haired ever-so-practical Celtic chieftain rode into my father’s village looking for horses.

And what had that girl been doing? Hurling cups and pitchers at Yorath’s head because he was determined to see her marry Hecla. That had been her future – bleak and grim and unremitting, all stones and brambles. And who had rescued her? That same when-I give-my-word-it will-be-honoured chieftain and his handsome blonde brother and wily father. So the girl with nothing to lose is long gone and in her place is – me.

Just me. Yet what do I know as I finish dressing Theo and Cedric and sit them up at the table ready for supper, as I glance across at my daughter sleeping serenely in her wicker basket, as Lenni gestures that the wooden bowls can be filled with her mouthwatering chicken pottage, as the men tumble through the door, Kai laughing, Llud striding across to embrace his grandchildren, Arthur smiling and catching my eye so that I am engulfed by delirious memories of this afternoon? – I simply know that I am the luckiest woman alive who would change absolutely nothing…….


End file.
